Fairytale
by Carys Langley
Summary: AU eventual Prideshipping SetoxYami, “My brother doesn't believe in happy endings.” After Mokuba's inevitable death, Yami finds himself the only one left to bear the cross that is Seto Kaiba's grief.
1. Chapter 1

**Fairytale**

AU eventual Prideshipping SetoxYami, "My brother doesn't believe in happy endings." After Mokuba's inevitable death, Yami finds himself the only one left to bear the cross that is Seto Kaiba's grief.

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**Disclaimer: **YGO does not belong to Lizzie or SK. It belongs to Takahashi Kazuki-sensei, who is probably more talented and sane. xD

**Inspiration: **The title and part of the plot is inspired by the song 童話 by 光良 (Fairytale/Tong Hua by Guang Liang) ((Sorry if the romanization is wrong x.x )) I know the language and don't romanize, usually.

**Notes: Fairytale **is actually the brainchild of **Lizzie, **SK's cousin who is too lazy and scared to post it on her own account. She's the one that addicted SK to Prideshipping so I guess I have to thank her for that? Anyway, this is an AU, and Lizzie knows that Yami Mutou is not 'the other Yugi's actual name, but for the purposes of this story, he has to be Yami Mutou.

Also, this is inevitably a part medical drama, except neither Lizzie nor SK are doctors, so a lot of medical facts may be off and we humbly ask your forgiveness. Lizzie just wanted to write out this expository scenario since it infested her mind five months ago and refused to go away.

We hope you all enjoy!

SK and Lizzie

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Domino General Hospital was a crowded hospital, yet there was only one patient that owned his own hospital room. There was only one patient that had an especial team of doctors watching him from around the clock. The doctors were all handpicked and none of them were local, except for one. A majority of them were from the States, one or two were from Europe.

The respective professionals, whether they knew it or not, had thoroughly been researched using countless medical journals, personal interviews with former patients, and the like. It was quite possibly the best medical team assembled in history. Which meant that they were infallible.

The person that assembled them liked to think so, anyway.

But even with the latest technologies and the best medical experts that money and research could find on his side, Seto Kaiba was still a cynic. And the cynic in him told him that he was wasting millions delaying the inevitable.

His brother was dying.

-

"I still think I'm going to die."

The words were husky, barely audible, but they pierced the stillness of the room and Yami's heart like ice nonetheless. But for someone who was so sure that death was near, Mokuba Kaiba sounded very calm about it.

But where the patient was calm, his private medical team was anything but. Everyone echoed Mokuba's sentiments, except with more panic. They were paid by the day, and for each day that Mokuba lived and breathed, their lives were safe. When the day that Mokuba Kaiba ceased to live and breathe, a few unlucky people would probably cease to live and breathe right along with the unfortunate patient.

Yami Mutou was one of them. Although his role on the team was relatively minute; coming on board as the genius intern that every medical team needed to do the dirty work, he had signed the same contracts as everyone else. He approached the bed; the sheets smelled heavily sterilized. Again. He had lost count of how many times they changed the sheets.

"Don't say that." He admonished quietly.

"It's true, isn't it?"

Yami did not answer. He sucked in a deep breath and looked down at the clipboard he carried and found no answers. "It's not my place to say."

"Why? Because my brother would murder you if you said that to me?" Mokuba asked, Yami had to look twice to realize that the young man was smiling.

Mokuba was dying, even Yami, who was just enough of an optimist to stay in self denial, knew it. By the tinge of bitterness that clung to Mokuba's smile, he knew that his patient knew it too. Yami sighed. "Partially." He admitted, and cracked a half smile of his own, "I doubt you'll blame me."

"I don't. But I don't think I'll ever understand you, either."

Yami paused. Of course Mokuba wouldn't understand any of it. It wasn't news that Seto Kaiba absolutely doted on his little brother. And for fleeting moment, Yami almost envied him. At last he shrugged one shoulder, "Be glad that you don't."

There was silence. But it was not a stifling silence, it was a calm silence that Yami could leave alone. He marked a few things on his clipboard, such as the fact that Mokuba's overall color was better, even though he was still dropping weight, not surprisingly. Pointless things to mark, mostly, but the little observations made Yami feel like he was being useful.

Yami stopped only when the blank he had come to required him to document what his patient had eaten that day.

"Have you eaten today?"

Mokuba shook his head no.

"...Could you try?" Yami knew he had to tread carefully. He had to get Mokuba to eat, though not in a way that would be considered nagging. The last thing he wanted to do was put Mokuba in a sour mood.

"I guess, since Seto tries so hard to make hospital food gourmet. It's just like him." Mokuba said, and Yami breathed a mental sigh of relief as he moved to help the other sit up.

"He wants the best for you." Yami said that, because he didn't know what else to say.

"I know he does." Mokuba sounded just a little bit wistful. "I lived a good twenty years, it's impossible for me not to know something like that."

The man was twenty. Yami tried to remember what he had been doing when he had been twenty. The only thing he had in common with Mokuba as far as he could see, was that he also spent a lot of time in the hospital. Though for an entirely different reason altogether. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to be dwelling on such a track of thought. Yami crossed over to where the wall phone was and spoke a few words to the nurse that picked up.

When he hung up, Mokuba said, "Will you stay here with me while I eat? They say conversation really makes the food go down."

"All right."

The game of self denial. Yami wasn't a willing participant, but he was a decent player. Two could play the game.

-

Mokuba's 'gourmet' hospital food arrived a couple of minutes later on a self-heating tray. Although Yami wondered vaguely why the man insisted on calling it 'hospital food' when it was especially catered from the Italian restaurant on the other side of town. It was another fortune come and gone, and Yami almost knew that his patient was going to throw it all back up sooner or later..

"Why don't you sit down, Yami? You standing around and pacing makes me nervous."

Mokuba called him Yami by Yami's own request. Somehow, it felt nice to be called what he was actually named as opposed to the very rigid title of Dr. Mutou. He pulled up a stool and obediently perched on it, the clipboard settled in his lap.

"D'you want some of my hospital food?" Mokuba gestured, "You can have the pastry. It's a shame to let personal catering all go to waste."

"Just hearing you call it hospital food makes it less appetizing. Why do you do that?"

"Because it _is_ hospital food. I'm eating it in a hospital, and I can barely keep it down." Mokuba's voice sounded eerily calm no matter how Yami tried to interpret it. "No matter how hard Seto tries, no matter how hard you guys try, it doesn't _matter_. It doesn't change the fact that I'm still dying sick in a hospital."

"Do you speak this way to your brother?"

"No. But I have to say it to someone. It might as well be you."

_I wish it wasn't. _But that statement wasn't one that Yami had the privilege to voice. Instead, he took Mokuba's proffered pastry and bit into it. Subtly sweet, and he was careful not to let any of the juices drip down his chin and stain his white coat. He chewed thoughtfully for a long, long moment and then repeated his earlier query, "Why do you do this?"

"Why shouldn't I do this?" Mokuba returned, he did not sound bitter, merely resigned. "I'm tired, I'm dying. This is my way of reconciling. I know that no one else wants to come to terms with this, but I would like to."

Yami nibbled some more pastry, "Do you want to die?" He asked at last, knowing perfectly well just how lame his question sounded.

"No. But I know I'm going to. Seto knows it too." Mokuba was quiet. He took in a small spoonful of soup. "Why make everyone else's lives miserable by not admitting it? This is one way that I know I'm not like Seto."

"Can't you at least try?"

"I have been, for all three months that you've looked after me. I have been trying." Mokuba assured him, "Though...it's good to be prepared. I prepared a will. Seto's lawyer helped me."

"Does Kaiba know?"

"No, I swore him to absolute secrecy." For a few fleeting seconds, his patient grinned. "Besides, my will doesn't affect Seto all that much."

Yami was genuinely surprised, and then not so much. He bit into his pastry once more.

"Yami?"

"Yes?"

"May I swear you to absolute secrecy too?"

The request immediately set off alarms. Yami's mind spun. Because he was a doctor, and because medical school encouraged all sorts of over analysis, his logic naturally lead him to unpleasant conclusions. He swallowed the last of his pastry and reached for a tissue. "That would depend on your intention. If it doesn't involve assisted suicide, I'll thank about it."

Mokuba snorted, "Do all doctors think this way?"

"When it's a life and death situation, we're encouraged to think death."

"That's comforting." His patient carefully tore off a bit of bread and sampled it, "However, my intention does not involve assisted suicide, or death in anyway. I never said I wanted to die, Yami; I just said I wanted to come to terms with it. There's a difference."

"Then I don't see why not."

Mokuba offered him another feeble grin, and gestured to his plate again, "Want some more food?"

Yami looked at the tray. Thus far, Mokuba had managed five spoonfuls of soup, three nibbles of bread, if not that, then certain something close. Even given his current condition, which left much to be desired, his eating habits could be better. "I'll take a plum." He said finally, "But by the time I finish that, I'll expect the soup to be half gone."

"I'm _twenty_, not eight." Mokuba sounded just a little miffed. "Everyone's allowed to grow up every once in a while. Especially me."

"Kaba doesn't let you?" For some reason, Yami found this almost amusing as he helped himself to the plum. It was almost reminiscent.

"Hardly." Then his patient was quiet again. Mokuba took in a dutiful sip of soup before speaking again, "...Seto hardly stops by to see me anymore. Kaiba Corps stocks are down too. But that's not surprising. How is Seto going to live without me, Yami?"

"...Am I supposed to know the answer?" The plum left an unexpectedly sour taste in Yami's mouth, or perhaps he was just being delusional.

"No. You're not. I thought I'd get lucky."

And this time, Yami couldn't resist a retort. "You're Seto Kaba's precious kid brother, you're plenty lucky."

There was silence, "Yeah, I guess."

The moment the words left his mouth, Yami bit his tongue. "...I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's okay. It's refreshing when someone dares to be honest with me, in spite of my last name." Mokuba shrugged, "I've been spoiled all my life, so yes, I guess I'm very lucky." After another tentative sip of soup, he changed the subject, "...May I tell you a bedtime story? Seto always made them up for me when I was little."

The plum was permanently sour. Yami looked at Mokuba, uncomprehending for a long, long moment, "...Is that why I have to be sworn to absolute secrecy?"

"Yes. I'm technically not suppose to tell anyone. Seto says the stories are embarrassing."

Yami could not help but crack a vague half grin again. Seto Kaiba and...personalized bedtime stories. No matter how he looked at it, it was a novel discovery. "I've sworn myself to absolute secrecy." He agreed solemnly. "...Go ahead."

"Wait. I've finished half of my soup. Can I lie down?"

"Let me see."

Mokuba held up the bowl for Yami's inspection, and though it didn't look like half to Yami, he still nodded and relieved the bed table of the mostly full tray so that his patient could lie down. "All right." After that was done, he returned to his stool and his clipboard. For what his patient had eaten that day, he penned in half a bowl of soup, and minimal amounts of bread.

"...Yami?"

"I'm listening." Yami said.

"Once upon a time, there were two princes. They shared a kingdom because one couldn't rule without the other. One prince was very kind, and he was much loved throughout the kingdom, while his other half was a merciless, vengeful beast that all of the commonfolk hated." Mokuba rolled onto his side with some difficulty to face Yami, "And yes, Seto likes to make everything blatantly obvious. I was little."

Yami said nothing.

"One day, a witch came to the kingdom. While the kind prince showered the visitor with all sorts of honors, the witch was actually secretly pillaging the kingdom of all its treasures. When the merciless prince found out, he locked up the witch in a deep dark dungeon and cursed the kind prince for being so kind."

"Ouch."

Mokuba chuckled, "Yeah...lucky me, I was too small to catch that subtlety." A long pause, "Anyway, after he cursed the kind prince, the merciless prince feels very guilty. So he tells the kind prince that he would grant the kind prince any one wish. After thinking for a long time, the kind prince said he'd like the merciless prince to release the witch."

"Of course, you know, the merciless prince was incensed again. He had all the reasons in the world to be upset. The witch was his enemy, after all. But then, because he promised, he had no choice but to set the witch free from the dungeon just as his other half wished."

"And then?"

"The witch was angry too." Mokuba said, "The witch was angry because all of the 'treasures' that the two princes possessed were taken unfairly from other smaller neighboring kingdoms. Of course, the kind prince had no idea. The rings that he he wore on his fingers were also stolen treasures, every gift that the merciless prince had ever brought back to spoil the kind prince...they were fake."

To Yami, this story was getting more and more morbid. He vaguely wondered how Mokuba managed to sleep after all this. But he only said, "Go on."

"The kind prince never got angry, not even once. But when the witch told him that all of the treasures that he possessed were fake, the kind prince got angry. He demanded to know if all of the emotions that the merciless prince possessed towards him were fake as well. From then on, the kind prince never spoke to the merciless prince again. He locked himself in a room, refusing to eat, refusing to see anyone."

"Without the kind prince for guidance, the kingdom sank into anarchy, and the merciless prince's own health grew worse and worse. It got so bad that the merciless prince began to go insane. He too, began to refuse food and drink, and eventually, he refused to sleep. Naturally, this threw the few nobles that were still loyal to him for whatever reason into a state of even greater alarm."

"...And?"

"So the nobles began to plead with the kind prince, who still insisted on locking himself away. They tried everything that they could think of to seduce him from the chamber. They told him that the country had fallen into ruins, and the merciless prince was dying." Mokuba paused, he looked almost wistful. "Of course, after hearing that his other half was dying, the kind prince hurriedly unlocked himself and hurried to the merciless prince's chambers. The merciless prince was still living, but barely."

"And then?"

"I don't know." Mokuba said, "I always told him I didn't want to hear anymore. I didn't want to hear him die. Ironic, isn't it?"

Yami stared at his clipboard, "...So...you don't know the ending?" He found that he was disappointed. Just a little.

"No. But I can tell you that it's probably very tragic. My brother doesn't believe in happy endings." Mokuba looked at him, "Not even for fairy tales."

Yami opened his mouth to say something else, but then a nurse beat him to it when she stuck her head tentatively in the room and reported, "...Dr. Mutou, Mr. Kaiba is here. Are you all finished?"

Seto Kaiba was here. Which was Yami's cue for hightailing out of Mokuba's hospital room – and quick. He got to his feet and thanks to habit, straightened his coat, he offered a faint smile to the patient on the bed. "I guess we are." He spoke to the nurse, and to Mokuba, he said, "...Try to finish your soup while your brother is here. Ask him to help you."

That made Mokuba laugh, he laughed so hard that he ended up coughing and for a moment, Yami was alarmed. But the man recovered on his own, although his voice was still husky. "You don't know what you're asking, Yami."

Yami pause with one foot out the door, _Yes, I do. _The thought was unexpectedly bitter, _I'm asking the impossible._


	2. Chapter 2

**Fairytale**

AU eventual Prideshipping SetoxYami, "My brother doesn't believe in happy endings." After Mokuba's inevitable death, Yami finds himself the only one left to bear the cross that is Seto Kaiba's grief.

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**A/N: **Hi everybody! This is Lizzie. I"m stealing SK's computer for just long enough to post this. Thanks so much for all the reviews I got. They made me a happy authoress. I hope you enjoy chapter two as well. ;)

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Seto Kaiba was at ease in many places only because he toted a spotless reputation in his public dealings, his private dealings were another another story altogether, but right now, it was the public, and the image that mattered. Rather unluckily for him, this public dealing did not call for an act. He was genuinely afraid, genuinely worried, and...genuinely aware that the was about the lose the person dearest to him.

Maybe it was because he wasn't acting. He needed to act for the cool facade to be in place. When he didn't act...quite frankly, Kaiba didn't know what to expect. Not acting for him, was above all else, profoundly dangerous.

The nurse took him down the hall to Mokuba's room, and even though visiting hours were technically over with for the day, exceptions were made for Seto Kaiba. She opened the door for him and said, "Take your time, sir."

It was not in Seto Kaiba to grace anyone with gratitude, so he just nodded and looked at her back until she left to make sure that she left. And then, with a deep breath, he turned his attention to the boy on the bed, although twenty was hardly young. He wished he didn't have to look.

"Seto."

Kaiba wondered when it was that Mokuba grew out of 'Big Brother', ever since he left for college and returned because he fell sick, it had been Seto. 'Big Brother' was endearing, it implied respect and awe, while Seto just sounded affectionate. Seto Kaiba didn't deal very well with affection, even if the said person offering him affection was his very own brother.

But Kaiba never corrected him, and Mokuba never called him 'big brother' again.

"You look...better." He managed.

"I look the same." Mokuba shrugged the best he could lying down. "You, however, look like a ghost. I'm supposed to be the sick one."

Kaiba looked at his brother, and found knowing eyes piercing right back into his own. Mokuba knew that he didn't like being fussed over, what his little brother was actually saying was 'you haven't been sleeping.' He was just sounding rude to save Kaiba face.

"I've been sleeping." He said rather defensively.

"I never said you weren't." Mokuba said. "Here, help me sit up."

Kaiba approached the bed. He wished that he didn't have to touch his brother and feel skin and bones. But he did, and his fingers ached. His fingers ached where his heart couldn't.

"Seto."

Kaiba wondered why his brother suddenly sounded so ominous. "What?"

"You look sick. Your color's off."

"I have a headache."

It was a banter that both of them knew very well, but this was the first time (in Kaiba's recollection, anyway) that Mokuba had said anything about color. The hospital must be getting to him. Honestly, Kaiba would be much more assured if he could set up his own private medical facility with his own private specialists, but business was chaotic as of late that assembling a special team and flying them over was all that he could do.

"I wish you'd take a week off."

_'I wish you'd take a week off to stay with me'_ was what Kaiba heard and he hated himself for it. He knew Mokuba would never voice the complete thought, and he wondered if he had failed as an older brother if Mokuba wouldn't even request that he'd stay.

But he couldn't.

If he did take a week off, it would be succumbing to the inevitable. "Kaiba Corps needs me."

"Fine, _I_ need you. If you're such a bastard about it, I'll come right out and say it. Now you don't have an excuse." Mokuba snapped.

Kaiba was warm and numb all over; this was what a slap in the face felt like, he was sure of it. For the first time in a long time, he found no words. There was leaden lump at the base of his throat and the back of his eyes felt hot. "You will get well. And when you get well, I'll take a month off, and we'll tour Europe. Like we did that one summer." He sounded pathetic to his own ears. "You will get well."

"That's not the point. If you were the one that was sick, I'd take a week off. You don't have to be so stubborn all the time."

And then Kaiba knew that he couldn't stay. He stood up again, and paced the perimeter of the room. "Look, I can't stay. Not tonight, I'm flying to Naples in an hour, this deal took months to negotiate. I'll be back in two days, I promise I'll take the week off then."

Mokuba was too tired to be relieved. He lay back down with obvious difficulty. "...Promise?"

"If you're here, I'm here." Kaiba offered his brother a half smile. The word 'promise' also sounded ominous and inevitable.

"Deal." Mokuba looked at him and managed a vague grin of his own, "When you come back, we should play chess. I play Yami everyday, so I might actually beat you. Be ready."

Yami. Kaiba did a quick search of his mental database and drew a blank. It was alarming, "Who's Yami?"

"The intern that just graduated from Columbia that you hired, remember? Dr. Yami Mutou."

Kaiba thought some more, "Is he blond? Short?"

"Yeah, and he's about your age."

"He can't be better than me at chess." Kaiba looked incredulous, as if to merely offer such a suggestion would be treason.

"He did get out of Columbia, Seto." Was all Mokuba offered in reply, with the grin still in place, "We'll see though. Call when you get to Naples, okay?"

It was all right for him to go; It was perfectly all right for him to abandon his sick and dying brother. Kaiba almost gave in and canceled the flight. But he would rather die first, rather than give in completely to the inevitable. "All right, I'll see you when I get back. Would you like anything from Naples?"

Mokuba's grin widened, by just a little, "Well, honestly? I'd like for you to get a tan." After his older brother's expression dropped a few priceless notches, he added, almost as an afterthought, "...Just kidding. I just wanted to see your face. But do remember to eat and sleep, Seto. See you in two days."

-

"You look beat."

Yami shrugged off his jacket and dropped unceremoniously onto the couch. The television was on, blaring a pro wrestling game. He was grateful for the noise, if anything, "I am." He admitted, head lolling sideways to rest against a padded armrest. He was also grateful for the uncomplicated, dependable presence of Joey Wheeler, who always stayed the same.

"You eat yet?"

"No."

"Did you eat lunch?"

Yami struggled to remember; it had been a hectic day as usual. In the morning, he made his rounds, and in the afternoon, he had been halfway through a game with Mokuba when a conference was called. Lunch hadn't been provided, and after that, it was back to Mokuba again. Unless a pastry and a few bites of a plum counted, then no, Yami didn't have lunch. But he shrugged one shoulder, "I don't remember."

"How can you _not_ remember?" Joey sighed a loud sigh, "I'm glad Gramps made you move in with me. You'd probably die sooner or later of accidental self-starvation." There was loud clattering in the kitchen, "...Eat something, or I'll shove it down your throat, pal. What do you want?"

"Don't joke like that. It's not funny anymore." Yami roused himself from the couch, and ambled to the kitchen's entrance. "...Are you trying to cook?" He looked politely disgusted as he watched his friend juggle pans and cooking oils.

"Can't blame a guy for trying, right?" Joey tried.

"If I'm the one that's going to be suffering through your 'cooking', then yes, I have every right to complain." Yami sighed, "Here, let me." Joining Joey at the counter, he looked at the equipment that were scattered about, "Put the black vinegar away. It's not used in the actual cooking process. What were you going to cook?"

"...I was trying to make fried rice. I didn't know you could cook."

"Of course you wouldn't, you're always bringing back takeout." Yami said, "...Could you help me chop up some carrots? Don't cut yourself."

"Course." Joey looked just a bit miffed as he headed for the fridge, "What do you take me for? And where'd you learn how to cook anyhow?"

A person not fit to be in the kitchen, that was who Joey was. But for the sake of their friendship, Yami kept that to himself, "Worrying about you isn't a crime. When I took a few crash courses in nutrition in Columbia, everyone had to learn how to cook."

"Columbia teaches you everything, huh?"

_I wish. _"Not quite."

There was silence. Whereas Yami liked the silence, Joey preferred noise, "...You know, ever since he took that job offer...you're back the way you were. Can't you just quit?"

"You can't say no to Seto Kaiba."

"You don't need his money. You don't need this job. You're top of your class, Columbia, you can work anywhere else, you just had to take the job." Joey raked a frustrated hand through his hair, "...Look, I"m sorry, but I hate it when you're like this. We all know that the kid is going to kick the bucket sooner or later. Why stay on a sinking ship? Why not just bail out now when you have the chance of escaping with your life? Everyone knows that Kaiba's a complete bastard."

Yami bit his lip, hard. "I signed contracts. It's not that easy."

"Get a lawyer."

"What sane, sensible lawyer would fight Kaiba Corp in Domino?"

"Isn't Columbia Law School supposed to be top-notch? You have friends, don't you?"

For Joey, everything was simple. Yami almost wished that it was that easy. "I have friends, but I don't like to take advantage of them unless I have a good reason to, besides, most of them have steady careers now, and fighting Kaiba Corp will ruin everything."

Joey gave him a look, "You really want to go down fighting, don't you?"

Yami sighed as turned off the stove. "Not particularly, I just doubt that fighting Kaiba Corp would bring a positive outcome for me."

"...When did you become so pessimistic without me knowing?"

Why did Joey's sense of humor become so utterly tasteless? That was what he wanted to know, but Yami only shrugged, "A lot of things change, you've changed too." Except the changes in Joey's case weren't life altering, for the most part. "I'm going to wash up, okay? I'll be back in a few."

-

Self indulgence made a person vain. And inevitably, sooner or later, vanity led to pride. But it was not self-indulgence that at last persuaded him to draw a warm bath, nor was it vanity that led Yami to stare at himself in the mirror after he had shed his clothing.

_This was all right, wasn't it? _

No, of course it wasn't. His own eyes betrayed him.

And Joey was right in a sense, he had lost weight.

Yami sighed again as he turned from the mirror. He turned off the water and gingerly dipped a hand into the steaming tub. It burned, just a little.

After another moment of hesitation, Yami stepped in the tub, though a little bit too warm, the steaming water was soothing. He closed his eyes. It was impossible to ask the water to soothe all of his pains, but for now...

"Yami, you in there?" Joey's voice rang out. Yami opened his eyes, he found that he was relieved at the interruption.

"Yes?"

"You have a phone call."

A phone call. Yami's heart dropped to his stomach and he was suddenly overwhelmed with an urge to vomit. A phone call, from the hospital to say that the inevitable had happened, that Mokuba had had a stroke, or a seizure. Or perhaps it was a call from Seto Kaiba himself, wanting to do him a favor by warning him that his life was going to be an orchestrated living hell from now on...

"Yami?"

Yami swallowed hard, his throat hurt, as if he had just swallowed some poisonous bile, "Who is it?"

"Dunno, some guy. Hang on." There was muffled muttering, and Yami kept his eyes shut tight. And then Joey said, "It's a Duke Devlin? He said he went to school with you."

Duke Devlin. The name greeted Yami with mixed feelings. Relief and mild annoyance...maybe a little bit of warmth? So for that, he guessed he was happy that Duke's timing had been off. "Can you tell him I'll call him back later?"

"He says he's going out...I think."

"Tell him I'll call him tomorrow, if he's not there, it's his own business."

-

"...Why are you looking at me like that?"

After his bath, Yami was in considerably better spirits, his body no longer ached, and thanks to the long soak in the tub, his problems that seemed so pressing before was suddenly not as baleful as they could have been. But that look that Joey gave him was still suspicious enough for him to pause.

"What have you not been telling me?" Joey said.

Yami dropped next to him on the couch, "What do you mean?"

"You know, about this Duke Devlin guy."

Yami paused, "We're...friends."

Joey seemed to consider this for a long, long moment, "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. He might be weird...but Duke's an all right friend of mine." Yami turned to face Joey, there was still that uneasy, prickling feeling in his chest. The feeling didn't come often, but it wasn't often that Joey gave him the look, or that Duke had time to drop him a line. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Dunno," Joey leaned back against the couch, "My ears are bleeding, that's all I know." He snorted, "Do you know how disturbing it is for me to pick up the phone and hear—hell, I don't even wanna say it." Heaving a heavy sigh, Joey shook himself, "Anyways, it's just...I don't want to hear it again."

Joey wouldn't. Yami planned on telling Duke never to call the house again. He got up, "I think I'll go to bed."

"You eat yet?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

There was a belated pause, "...Night."

-

Naples, Italy.

Middle of summer, Naples proved to be impossibly hot and Kaiba was just slightly tempted to follow through with his brother's ridiculous wish. But only slightly. It was an urge so slight that it wasn't even there.

The contract with Longino Enterprises was done and done. Everything transitioned smoothly and the chief executive, Vittorio Longino, a man in his fifties with a son Kaiba's age, had understood perfectly when he explained how and why he was in a hurry. Longino too, had been following Mokuba's plight via international television along with the rest of the world. And Kaiba hated it. He'd done everything in his power to stop the hospital from leaking information to the press, but every once in a while, a juicy morsel would surface when he wasn't looking.

So instead of having the trip take a full two days, it would now only take only a day and a quarter. It was a day and a quarter that Kaiba lived through relying on caffeine pills. He worked relentlessly, ignoring the obvious fatigue he felt, work kept his mind focused, so he would not wonder what awaited him back in Domino.

But it was of little comfort to him to remind himself of Mokuba's phone call. His brother had sounded unexpectedly bright over the phone, he was even cheerful.

"_I bet you'll find a hot girl on the beach." _

Kaiba had blanched. And then he had remembered that Mokuba was twenty, and saying things of -that- nature for twenty-year-olds were perfectly normal.

"_I'm just kidding. You make the most priceless faces when I say something like that. You haven't even gone to the beach. You probably didn't even sleep."_

And then there had been silence. And his brother had grinned.

"_I gotta rest up so I can play chess with you when you come back. Yami says he doesn't think that he could beat you either. But hey, you know, miracles happen." _

Kaiba wondered what that meant. Being a Kaiba meant that Mokuba never _meant_ what he said, usually he meant something else entirely. Pondering that, he must have fallen asleep because the next time he opened his eyes, it was to the buzzing his cell phone that was never far away. He stared at it blearily, rubbing his eyes.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Kaiba?"

Kaiba rubbed his eyes again, he wished that he had coffee. But the voice on the other end wasn't one that he could place. "Who is this?"

"This is Dr. Victor Melbourne, chief of your medical board. I'm calling from Domino General Hospital." The man's voice sounded overused, and carried a bit of an Northeastern lilt. "I have some unfortunate news for you regarding your brother." The doctor was probably so used to delivering 'unfortunate' news that his voice sounded flat.

That jerked him upright in his chair and out of sleep in a hurry. Kaiba's first instinct was that there was some sort of mistake. A mistake that some more wired transactions could easily correct. But he found that he couldn't speak, his vocal cords had suddenly withered without him knowing.

"Mr. Kaiba?"

He inhaled sharply, and mustered without great difficulty, "...I'm listening."

"As I have told you many times before, Mokuba's continuous paralysis is unlike anything we have ever seen. Its progress is simply frightening, and now...it seems that we have run out of time. He had a heart attack just a half hour ago, the whole time is working to stabilizing him now, but I have to warn you, the chances are slim. Perhaps it is best to make preparations--"

Kaiba slammed the phone shut.

-

To Yami, the sudden chaos gone silent meant that the fight was over, and there was nothing left to do but to wait for death. They had barely managed to salvage Mokuba's heart, it hadn't given out completely, but it was hardly stable. The patient also had failed to regain consciousness, but the fact that he was still breathing at all...that was a miracle.

They had to keep him alive, at least, until Seto Kaiba returned from Naples. Even if they had to rely on a machine to ensure that he lived and breathed.

Naples. Naples seemed half a world away and Yami wondered what Kaiba was doing there. Had he no sense of propriety that he would go and run off on a business venture, one that he would most undoubtedly have a second chance for; instead of staying by his dying brother's side, a place that he would never have a chance to be again?

One of the nurses looked. "Dr. Mutou, are you all right?"

The back of his eyes felt hot, and when Yami touched a hand to his cheek, he realized that the skin there was not completely dry.

He turned and fled.


End file.
